CHAPTER TEN – From Geek to Grunge
At the very moment Luann’s new appearance was getting appreciative looks from Aaron Hill, another transformation had taken place in the classroom right across the hallway.
“GUNTHER?!” Knute could barely believe his eyes as he saw Gunther walk into the classroom. Mister Tucked ‘n Tidy was a new person. Gone were the buttoned-to-the-neck dress shirt, pressed trousers and shiny black oxfords. Now, Gunther slouched into the classroom in a black tee with ‘Bite Me’ written on it, oversized flannel with the sleeves torn off, kneehole jeans, scruffy Nikes and bed-head hair. He tossed a battered backpack on the desk and slumped into the chair.
Scratching his armpit, he looked over at Knute. “Yo.”
“Un. Be. Leaveable.” Knute shook his head. “You are the KING of Crud, my man.”
Gunther sat up, looked around, then acted more Gunther-like. “This is definitely the model to mimic, Knute. Already several girls pointed at me in the hall.” A girl walked past and Gunther slumped in his seat again.
“I’m sure they did,” smiled Knute.
Gunther said, “I believe I have the attire correct but I’m still perfecting the attitude. By lunch time, I’ll be ready for the ultimate test.”
“Yes. This entire project is meaningless if it doesn’t produce the intended result of attracting a female. I’ve decided to go for the number one target.”
“No, Knute. At this school. I estimate that, given the opportunity, 94% of the males here would pursue one specific female — Tiffany Farrell.”
Knute’s eyes went wide. “TIFFANY?! What are you, nuts? She’s way out there, dude. She can have any guy she wants.”
“That’s exactly why she’s the ideal test subject. If Tiffany displays even the slightest positive reaction to my slovenly persona, I’ll have verified my theory.”
Knute took off his cap, scratched his head and put his cap back on. “This is insane.”
“This is science.”
“Do you have some kind of a plan?”
“Yes. During lunch in the cafeteria I’ll casually approach her, engage in conversation and then monitor the results.”
Knute shook his head. “Man, I hope you have good medical coverage.”
“Why? The worst that can happen is she completely ignores me.”
“Or she tells some goon of a linebacker to haul you out to the dumpster. You sure you want to try this on Tiffany? Maybe you should start lower, like Luann.”
Gunther sat up. “No! It can’t be Luann. I… there’s an emotional involvement there that might skew the results. Anyway, I’ve already input Tiffany’s name into the report’s database.”
Knute said, “Oh! The Database. Well, then.”
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some practicing to do.” Gunther slid down in his chair and sprawled his legs, his index finger exploring his left nostril.
Two rows behind the boys, her face hidden by Glamour magazine, someone was listening to every word the boys had said.
Amber, Tiffany’s friend, smiled to herself.
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